Tuesday February 23rd
Weight unknown, items ironed uncountable but must be in three figures.
8 pm. Have spent last two days ironing everything Colin owns and checking for lost buttons, broken zips etc. Do not want Una thinking he left me due to incompetent man maintenance. Have also bought him new toothbrush and cord for dressing gown (currently he ties it up with the starter cord from the old lawnmower, handle dangles down in front most unpleasantly).

Will Una ever see him in his dressing gown? Quite likely, as he is currently getting out of bed at lunchtime and watching TV for several hours in his pyjamas. Once dressed he goes to the shed with the cordless phone and a torch so he can phone Bridget and tell her what a terrible person I am. Meanwhile I am steaming creases into his underpants and checking that he’s got razorblades, just in case he ever starts shaving again. Back aches now, will just have hot bath.

9 pm. Bath used to be simple matter of hot water and a few bubbles. These days have to put hair in rollers, put on face pack, scrub feet to remove hard skin and drench entire body in moisturiser once dry. More like military operation than relaxing soak. Exhausted. Going to bed.

Friday February 26th

What a week. Slipped out on Wednesday for a delicious lunch with J while C moved out, came back to find C trying to wrestle the lawnmower into the back of the car. That was the extent of his packing. I was tempted to say ‘won’t you need a few clothes? Is Una supplying pots and pans? Tea towels, washing up liquid? Loo roll, shampoo, carpet sweeper?’ but I thought no, let him find out the hard way that I’ve been a one-woman supply line all these years.

Sure enough, just before bedtime he was back for toothpaste, and half an hour later he popped back to ‘borrow’ a teaspoon of Horlicks. Next morning he wanted an egg, then rushed back for bread for the soldiers. After he left I got the butter from the fridge and left it on the doorstep – 10 minutes later it was gone.

Sunday February 28th
66 kilos, must be right as have checked several times as way of passing the time, and very odd as have hollow feeling inside so should weigh less.

6 pm Have had a very strange day, wandering round empty house looking at all the stuff that used to mean so much to me. Means nothing now. Phoned Una to check that C was OK and she said ‘he’s with Geoffrey, they’ve gone to Homebase for a lawnmower sparkplug. I don’t know how you stood it all those years Pam.’ Put the phone down quickly before I said anything disloyal to C. Feel bad enough already.

Spent last night with Julio again. Over dinner he gave me that smile of his, the one that makes the skin round his eyes crinkle up so charmingly, so back I went to his hotel. Not quite so, what shall I say, special as last time. The thing is, Colin was never very… and then in recent years he’s barely… so the upshot is I simply don’t have a frame of reference. Anyway as soon as it was over he said ‘oh I have just remembered, it is my mother’s birthday on Wednesday’ which rather put a dampener on things. Then this morning when I woke up he was already showered and shaved and just putting his socks on. Business meeting apparently. I said ‘on a Sunday?’ and he said ‘they are Japanese. I will tell room service to bring your breakfast.’

Feel discarded like an old glove. Found myself thinking of Bridget. I don’t suppose the modern young woman stands for that sort of treatment. Most likely she’s in bed right now with some man who wouldn’t dare put his socks on without her say-so.

Weight unknown, calories unknown, alcohol units 16 (but have 35 years of catching up to do), fulfilled fantasies just the one, but what a one.

16. 35 What a weekend. Started in dutiful parental mode, lunch with Bridget, at her most annoying too. Really she hasn’t changed since she was 6 so I had to sit through her endless complaints about work, boyfriends, her flat, while watching her chomp through all the most unhealthy things on the menu. Hang on, phone is bleeping.

16.40 Text from Julio. Silly boy. Where was I. Oh yes, I had intended to tell B about Julio but when she eventually got round to asking me how I was and what happened in Albufeira I was so irritated with her I simply didn’t want to confide, so denied everything. And all the while Julio was waiting patiently outside the coffee shop! Oh, phone again.

16.50 Julio again. Rather lovesick it seems. Anyway finally got away from loving daughter for wonderful afternoon, evening and, no more lies, all night, with J. Phone.

17.20 Called him back this time. Only so much you can say in a text. As soon as I got home this morning B was on the phone accusing me of mistreating Colin and taking a lover, etc etc. Quite something coming from a girl who has had more boyfriends than – well not hot dinners in her case, but let’s just say a lot of boyfriends. Trouble is, once you start telling little fibs they do start to grow. Pretended I had bumped into J. accidentally and anyway he was just a friend. Oh, can hear Colin’s car.

19.07 And why I wonder is it always mum’s cooker and dad’s car? He also over the years has owned the stereo system, the settee and the side of the bed with a reading lamp. I am allocated the contents of the kitchen, whoopdedoo. Specially the washing machine, which is so much mine Colin dare not touch it. No doubt that, rather than laziness, is why he’s just asked me to wash the filthy clothes he came home in – has been helping Geoffrey Alconbury clear out the granny flat, painting ceilings etc. I refused, which seems to have upset him more than our relationship breakdown. Let Una do it, since she is so keen to have him.

64 kilos. Amazing what stress does for calorie burning rate. Silver lining in every cloud it seems.

Life is so strange. Ever since Colin retired I’ve felt I was living in slow motion, now suddenly these last few days have been at warp speed. First thing Sunday morning Colin announced he was going to visit Bridget for lunch. I said I was going to visit Bridget for lunch. He said she was his daughter. I said she was my daughter. I said well I don’t care I am going anyway you may do as you please you usually do. While I was saying this he grabbed the car keys, ran out of the house and roared off in a cloud of exhaust. Phoned for a taxi to get to the station, none available. Thought of asking Una for a lift. Too humiliating. Phoned Bridget to cancel.

Found myself contemplating the long day ahead – too wet for gardening, nothing on TV, can’t face watching Four Weddings yet again. Sent a few texts, but everyone having lunch with everyone else apparently (strange that we are never invited. Still, aren’t a we any longer, so not relevant).

Suddenly decided to text Julio – just ‘hi how are you?’ Phone promptly made strange burbling noise, stopped, then did it again – eventually twigged it was ringing, so answered it – Julio! In London no less! Said he’d had a strange feeling that I needed him and besides, had to come to London on business anyway.

Wonderful lunch with him on Monday and afternoon wandering round London. Everything looks so different when you’re in… let’s just say when you’re happy. Definite signs of spring in Hyde Park, sun shining, birds singing.

Back to earth with a bump yesterday, with Colin mooning helplessly round the house, saying he would move out if he could, but where could he go? Roderick and Gerald apparently had offered their spare room but that didn’t appeal as there is a tarantula in a tank in the corner. Suddenly hit me that he had told them, and we would have to tell everyone else.

Braced myself and started phoning round. You either tell one person, (i.e. Mavis) and let them spread it, with embellishments, or tell everyone yourself. Went for the latter option, leaving Mavis till last. After a harrowing hour and a half I’d done it. Phone rang – Una, offering Colin the use of their redundant granny flat. Just give them a couple of days to tidy it up, full of items earmarked for charity shop plus garden furniture in winter storage, apparently. He brightened up no end when I told him – said ‘I’ll be able to do something about that lawn of theirs.’

Saturday February 13th

65 kilos. Can’t eat, keep throwing half my portion in the bin.
10.42 Yesterday morning C. suddenly said he was ready to talk. Sat him down and opened my mouth to repeat my list of complaints (it goes round and round in my head all day) but before I could make a sound he started. He said ‘I said talk, not listen, it’s my turn now.’ Can hardly bear to think of it. The things he said to me. Hang on, need a tissue.

10.44 Apparently he knew as I walked up the aisle it was a mistake, but ‘didn’t like to make a fuss.’ All very well, but he’s forgetting that I was there that day. He was so hungover from his stag night he had trouble standing straight and certainly was in no fit state to know anything. Was sick round the back of the church as soon as we got out, and looks like death in the photos. Need another tissue.

10.46 Accused me of micro-management. I said ‘and what, pray, might that be?’ He mumbled something. Obviously didn’t have the first idea what it was. Tissue.

10.49 So the upshot is we are to have a trial separation as he ‘needs some space.’ I said I wasn’t leaving the house, my conscience was clear and I’d kept my hand on my ha’penny all through the Julio business. When I think of the fun I could have had, it makes my blood boil.

2.00 Can’t settle to anything. Phoned Bridget, out as usual, but left message I would bring her lunch tomorrow. Salmon, always her favourite.

Thursday February 11th

07.30 Colin has been avoiding me. Spent most of Tuesday driving the Community Bus – very praiseworthy but hardly likely to save our marriage. I did an extra turn at the charity shop to take my mind off it. Was determined to catch him on Wednesday but he slipped out before dawn. Left a note saying he’d decided after all to go on the Probus trip to Chocolate World. Pure cowardice, he doesn’t even like chocolate, he’s left half a Snickers in the fridge since before Christmas. So I went shopping to cheer myself up – totally failed. Still I’ve foiled him today – I’m up first. The car keys are in my apron pocket.

09.12 After breakfast C. made a break for the shed, muttering about the state of the grass (shaved nearly bald actually) but I got between him and the back door and stared him down. He said ‘it’s that dripping tap, isn’t it, I’ll do it tomorrow I promise.’ I said ‘go in the lounge and sit down. I’ll be in in a minute.’ That was ten minutes ago. Am trying to nerve myself up to it.

18.37. Have been talking all day. Voice has gone. Both exhausted. C asleep on the sofa. Didn’t even stop for lunch, only stopped when Una phoned, very curious and asking awkard questions. Will have another frozen shepherd’s pie. It isn’t really convenience food, since I made it in the first place.

21.16 Phone kept ringing and ringing. Thought it was probably Una again. Finally thought I’d better answer before she came round, but it was Bridget. Made an excuse and hung up.

Calories almost zero, in fact was sick at bedtime yesterday so calories a minus figure.

08.27 What a terrible day yesterday, just terrible. Started well - sent brief text to Julio asking him to desist texting as I had to concentrate on rebuilding my marriage. Sure this was the right thing to do despite Colin being so emotionally distant (and grass clippings all over hall carpet yet again). Thought this would be the end of it and was in kitchen trying to recreate the fish stew we had in that little restaurant in the hills. Thought it would help C. feel included in the holiday (cockles the very devil to find locally, so left them out). Anyway C. was back in the house for something (see grass clippings above) and he heard my phone beep so picked it up.

Well they say an eavesdropper never hears anything good about himself and the same is true if you look at a person’s personal texts. It was a long one from Julio, professing his undying love for me and including ‘why you stay with that bad man? He no love you like I do’ which was very odd as Julio ’s English is perfect, pressure of emotion I suppose.

And suddenly we got emotion from Colin too, stormed into the kitchen in a towering rage, picked up the fish stew and threw it out onto the daffodil bed by the back door. Said he wasn’t going to eat adulterous food. I maintained, I am please to say, both calm and dignity, although inside I was seething. I said ‘so you completely ignore me when I tell you I am unhappy but at the first whiff of another man treating me like a human being instead of a doormat you turn into a raging bull. Well you can get your own lunch – I expect you can manage some choasted teese.’ I meant toasted cheese of course but by then the emotion was getting to me too.

C. said ‘choasted teese?’ and at that moment the phone rang – Bridget. I let Colin answer it while I went outside to try and save the daffodils – just coming into bud too. He followed me outside and said ‘Bridget wants to come for lunch.’ I said ‘fine, you are cooking’ so he went back in and put her off.

Silence for the rest of the day. He went out for fish and chips, I reheated one of the frozen dinners I made for him to eat while I was away. Too salty – from my tears.

Still not speaking this morning. Where will this end?

Managed to resist scales, although the morning feels all wrong without ritual weigh in. No interest in fantasies of any sort.

Was totally fed up with Talking Balls, full of strange words like hegemony and zeitgeist but is there anything about what to do when your husband has gone African Drumming with Roderick and Gerald, refuses to talk about issues (if that’s the right word) and instead tells you not to be such a ‘moaning Minnie’? No there is not. So got rid of it – left it in the Ladies at WI.

WI was a nightmare as it happens, Una full of stories about her grandchildren making a huge banner reading ‘Welcome home Nanna U’ and Audrey very strange, all pink and giggling. And when I was asked what I did on holiday I blushed and said ‘oh, it was a week ago, can hardly remember.’ Sylvia replied ‘Well Pam you are a little young for memory loss, anyway I hear Colin enjoyed himself. Before I could say how glad I was that my husband didn’t fall apart just because I had a little holiday she called the meeting to order and introduced the speaker – something about the History of the Doily, which normally I’d be interested in but was too mortified to listen.

Tried to phone Bridget again, must talk to someone but no answer, again. Where can she get to, no wonder her flat is always untidy. Phoned Una who did listen but then said grimly ‘count your blessings Pam, at least he’s not at you all the time.’ Phoned Audrey but she was rather breathless and I heard her whisper ‘in a minute darling, in a minute.’ So phoned Una again and she said ‘oh yes, I believe Nigel has rather come to heel since we went away. Look, why don’t you phone Elaine Darcy, that son of theirs is divorced, she may know what to say to you.’

Divorced! Surely she doesn’t think we. But then on the other hand. I really don’t know if I’m coming or going. And what am I going to do about all these texts from Julio?

Won’t weigh self today – book says weight obsession is function of patriarchy and not to be tolerated. Will compromise and cut down to once a week weighing.

19.33 Home alone all day. House is sparkling, laundry all done, kitchen back to rights. Opened freezer and found it still full of dinners I made for Colin to eat while I was away. Wept. Opened dustbin to dispose of kitchen rubbish and found it full of empty take away boxes. Threw kitchen rubbish at house in temper. House now has tomato sauce stain to left of kitchen door.

20.17 Braced myself and went into lounge to talk things through with C. Have spent all day rehearsing list of complaints – feel downtrodden, unloved, housework a bore, life no fun, Colin ignores me, no grandchildren, hate being old. At the end he said ‘but you know we can’t afford to run a second car’ and turned back to the TV.

20.19 Phoned Bridget. No answer.

20.21 Still no answer.

20.37 Still no answer. Will have a bath.

23.46 Finally got through to Bridget, who was crying because of something someone said at a dinner party. I said ‘you should count your…’ and she shouted ‘you never understand I’m going to phone Sharon’ and slammed the phone down.

68 kilos. Could be worse. Julio fantasies 4, they gave me the wrong baby fantasies 6.

09.23 So. Home. Laundry basket over flowing (C. ‘too busy for laundry’), larder empty (‘too busy for shopping’), house filthy (‘too busy for housework). Am contemplating day of putting this all to rights. Except. Why should I? Will just pop to hairdresser first and get roots done.

12.49 Back to normal at Maison Kevin. Swine flu was actually panic attack brought on by worrying he is 30 and still hasn’t got a wife, children etc. Funny, always assumed Kevin was gay but it appears he’s just shy. Not so sure about the Vicar, who does seem to love dressing up. Anyway am still smarting over ghastly visit from Bridget who was in the strangest mood. Toyed with her food and sulked, just like when she was 16, but she is the same age as Kevin and should have grown out of it. (Thought – should I introduce them? Might be useful to have a hairdresser in the family).

14.17 Colin bolted lunch and rushed out to, well not sure, but some activity that involves green wellies and his swimming shorts (mud wrestling?). Can’t stop brooding about yesterday – in the end was so irritated with Bridget I found myself repeating something I read in Talking Balls. I said being gay was just laziness, and having said it I went on to justify it. Can’t believe I did that, just because B was winding me up.

18.36 Colin back from working party in Kingsford Woods, clearing the undergrowth. Picked up swimming shorts in error as they are the same colour as his woolly hat. Is watching recorded tennis from yesterday while I do the ironing. There must be more to life than this.

Weight unknown, but must be huge after living off burgers and cake for a week. Guilty conscience alone must weigh several stones.

04.12 a.m. Can’t sleep. Can’t bear the thought of having to face Colin. How will Una face Geoffrey and Audrey face Nigel? We have all thrown away decades of dutiful wifely behaviour, and for what?

04.17 a.m. It was rather nice actually.

04.18 a.m. Is holding hands adultery? Is it grounds for divorce?

06.53 a.m. Have just realised I didn’t catch the sun at all. Can’t go home looking like I haven’t had a holiday – luckily brought some fake tan with me. Will just slap some on before we leave.

10.43 a.m. Have retreated to Ladies room at the airport to hide head in shame. Una has been showing me the photos on her digital camera, her and Audrey on the beach with the taxi driver and the waiter. And their wives. And their children. Their whole week has been perfectly innocent, all because they missed their grandchildren. They even babysat one evening so the waiter and the taxi driver could take their wives out, while I was, I was… can’t bear to think about it.

10.59 a.m. Have just spend 10 minutes trying to hand in book I found in the Ladies. Could not understand rudimentary English of person on the help desk, until American behind me said ‘excuse me ma’am, but what you have there is a Book Crossing book – the idea is you read it then leave it somewhere for another reader to find.’ So I have to keep it. Am not interested in football (or any other sport – with a title like Talking Balls who can tell?) but it will distract me on the flight.

18.12 Nearly home. Fake tan has turned orange. Will just have to brazen it out. Colin will only talk balls at me anyway – it’s what men do apparently (book was about feminism, not football). And apparently I need some Me time after years of being enslaved to men.

18.14 Have texted Julio. Would be nice to see him next time he’s in England.

No need of scales, am perfect woman apparently, Hugh Grant fantasies 0, Colin Firth fantasies 0, real life events many.

08.33 a.m. Spent yesterday with Julio. Looked out of window after breakfast and there was his Merc, with him leaning casually against bonnet, immaculately dressed with lemon jumper slung round his shoulders. Looks just like Louis Jourdan in Three Coins in the Fountain. Wonderful day, but at the end told him I was happily married woman and not to come round here again.

08.47 a.m. Will just see if Audrey and Una are awake. Will spend the day with them and try to mend a few bridges.

08.48 a.m. Found a note in the kitchen ‘gone to the beach – enjoy your lie in. We’ll be near the beach café, do come and join us.’ Oh dear, really don’t fancy playing gooseberry to the pair of them with the waiter and the taxi driver. And look, there’s Julio waiting outside. Naughty boy. Will just go and tell him to give up, since I belong to another.

11.36 p.m. Another perfect day with a perfect gentleman. He calls me Pamela – not Pam or Pammy (sometimes catch Colin staring at me with puzzled expression, as if not entirely sure what I’m called). Julio opens the car door for me and helps me into my coat. We found a deserted beach and walked on it, holding hands. He gently removed my turban and somehow I didn’t care about the roots (hardly show anyway).

11.37 p.m. Am a scarlet woman. Just like Una and Audrey.

Wish there were scales here, have barely eaten a thing for 24 hours due to wifely worry, Maeve Binchy’s finished 2, husband dead in gutter fantasies too many to count.

07.14 am. What a terrible 24 hours. Spent all day yesterday trying to get in touch with Colin. Goodness knows what they thought of me in the café, constantly phoning. In the end in desperation I phoned Mavis Enderby and asked her to go round there. She said it was a bit late and she’d go in the morning.

10.47 am. Text from Mavis. ‘Colin fine, drank too much so stayed night with Roderick and Gerald, then spent the day at the driving range. Says you left 38 messages on the answering service and no need to fuss.’ What a relief. Colin is OK. Must have some breakfast.

11.02 am. Mmm, must admit the coffee here is good, and someone left a cake out in the kitchen. Need comfort food after what I’ve been through… wait a minute, stayed the night? STAYED THE NIGHT!!! And Mavis knows – I can just imagine what that mucky little mind of hers will make of that. It’ll be all round the village before I get home.

11.07 am. No need to fuss? NO NEED TO FUSS!!!

11.08 am That’s it. Have had enough. Will get bike out and find Una and Audrey, must be on the beach somewhere.

00.17 pm, or am? Thursday really, but who cares. Got lost, missed beach entirely and ended up with puncture by ruined castle inland somewhere. Rescued by knight, no shining armour, shining Mercedes though. Scooped me up, took me to lunch, showed me round local area, took me to dinner in quiet little place only the locals use, with live music. A bit screechy (fardo? farder?) but probably an acquired taste. Dropped me back here a few mins ago, Audrey popped head out of bedroom and said ‘there you are – we missed you at the café.’ I said ‘burger and chips?’ she said ‘yes’ and closed bedroom door.

No scales in Alubfeira, so to hell with it, Hugh Grant fantasies 0, Colin Firth fantasies 2, murdering Una and Audrey fantasies 17

10.28 Still in bed, no sleep again last night, Audrey and Una giggling like schoolgirls till the early hours. Villa has one double room and one tiny single, which I have because, Una said ‘we know you like your privacy Pam’. Double room opens on to the balcony, single doesn’t, but don’t care as there is no view. Plus also no swimming pool, apparently we are going to swim in the sea. And apparently ‘we’ i.e. Audrey and Una decided not to hire a car, instead we’ve got bikes. Have not ridden a bike since school and don’t intend to start now.

12.37 Lunching in the villa off dry bread and apricot jam, which I also had for breakfast. Audrey and Una have gone down to the café at the end of the road (‘no point in spending the holiday cooking Pam’). Well I tried it last night, never again – all they had was a freezer full of burgers and chips. No call for anything else in January apparently – the owner is a retired bus driver from Birmingham and burger and chips is the only thing he can ‘cook’. Apparently in summer he employs a local cook but, you guessed it, not worth it in January.

15.53 Curled up in bed with a Maeve Binchy – very comforting. Have brought all the wrong clothes and can’t get warm. Heating in villa doesn’t work of course. Audrey and Una have cycled to the beach to meet up with two new ‘friends’ they met at the café – a taxi driver and a waiter, both with nothing to do at this time of year. Hero of Maeve’s book is just like Colin Firth in the in-flight movie. Best thing about the holiday so far…

17. 46 No sign of Audrey and Una. Tried to phone Colin on mobile but it doesn’t seem to work here.

17. 48 I mean my Colin, not Colin Firth, although possibility of misdial or crossed line leading to long talk with Colin Firth is rather fun.

18.03 Tried from the phone in the café. No answer.

18.17 No answer. Oh, I can see Audrey and Una outside. On their own and pushing their bikes.

19.12 Still no answer. Audrey and Una insist I stay for burger and chips – Audrey has wine in her saddlebag. Why not.

22.34 No answer. Who cares?

23.19. An answer! Curry house in Nottingham never heard of Colin Jones. Charming though, very nice people. Long chat. Bedtime now though.

60-something, whatever, no time as busy packing.

16.46 Phew, what a marathon, but at long last everything is pressed and folded in tissue paper and laid out on the spare bed. Hard work, but as my mother used to say, Pamela, if you pack properly you will never have to spend your holiday ironing (have packed travel iron just in case though). Have managed very nice capsule wardrobe with last summer’s basics plus a couple of extras from the Sales. Navy as the base colour (slimming) with a few touches of soft apricot. Have even found a turban that co-ordinates as sun wreaks havoc with my hair… oh my godfathers, my hair! My roots! Cannot go to Albufeira with roots showing, which they don’t now but hair will inevitably grow an inch while I’m snoozing on the plane – must phone Maison Kevin, I know it’s Friday but I’m a good customer and they will fit me in, I know they will.

16.48 Disaster. Total disaster. Kevin has swine flu and they’ve closed the salon as a precaution. Could get Colin to run me into town, if he were here, which he isn’t as he’s out ‘giving Roderick a hand with his lawnmower.’ Can’t go to Albufeira. Must go. Will spend entire holiday in turban. Will pretend have earache.

68, but what do you expect when chained to the stove and constantly tasting

10.58 Spent all of Monday and Tuesday cooking, filling freezer with tasty meals so C doesn’t starve while I’m away. All packed in individual portions in little foil dishes – shepherd’s pie, chicken curry, even some chilli which I never normally make for flatulence reasons but since he’ll be on his own, well, why not. Plus some stewed fruit, and a chocolate cake already cut into individual portions. If I stock the fridge with apples and cheese for his lunches he should be fine. Will just make a coffee and talk him through the reheating instructions.

11.39 Explained at length, also ran through contents of airing cupboard and how washing machine works in case of laundry emergency. Could tell he wasn’t listening, but watching robin on bird feeder, so I stopped talking. C said ‘OK. I’ve been asked out for dinner actually – Roderick’s partner Gerald is a chef you know.’ Gerald? I didn’t know there was a Gerald.

14.15 Texted Una ‘sorry, Albufeira off, Colin needs me here.’

15.14 Ear throbbing from long call from Una, on landline so she suddenly said ‘must go, we only get one free hour with our package.’ But end result am going to Albufeira as girls need me, Geoffrey is going to Scotland for golf and Audrey’s Nigel is in towering rage and has banned her from going away without him. As Una says, this is not to be tolerated and we must go.

65, won’t last as had two helpings of apple crumble and cream at dinner, then finished leftovers for tea plus last of chocolate biscuits, fantasy meetings with Hugh Grant while pushing grandchildren in double buggy 45

09.28 Colin in spare room again last night. Seems to have set up camp in there – noticed biscuit crumbs on bedside table, also he is sleeping in his socks. Two copies of Lawnmower Monthly under the bed, and the little radio from the shed – what’s the betting that is tuned to Radio 5Live?

09.57 Was so far ahead with the lunch (roast pork with stuffing, broccoli and apple crumble with cream) I thought we could have a nice walk – with the oven set on auto-timer it practically cooks itself. Asked Colin if he fancied an amble round the village but he muttered something about being busy and disappeared into the garage.

10.03 Texted Una What are you having for lunch? She texted back Sorry can’t chat Darcy’s due for lunch and can’t find coffee filters. Texted Sylvia What are you having for lunch? She texted back Snrry cant cgat lookng fter grdkids.

1.32 Served lunch on the dot of one, Colin threw it down his gullet, stood up, wiped his mouth and said ‘boys’ll be here in a minute.’ Insists he told me he was playing golf this afternoon with the ‘lads from the Duck and Dressing Gown.’

2.03 Washing up done. Bored.

2.04. Phoned Bridget – got answering machine. Didn’t leave a message. Phoned James. Ditto.

5.45 Well that’s Four Weddings and a Funeral, again. Will wear out tape if I’m not careful. Will have some tea and go to bed early.

67- Colin has ruined the scales, fantasy texts with Hugh Grant 6

10.17 No chance to text yesterday, too much ironing (surely should be fewer white shirts now Colin’s retired?). Rushed back from shops to get texting today. Texted James to say thankyou for phone. (NB must get Bridget’s mobile number, could text her every day!) Texted Mavis and Una to say See you at WI this afternoon. Texted Una again with story of scales, told her Colin was a clot, clearly I don’t weigh 67 stone and even Twiggy was never 67 lbs. Una texted back Must be measuring in kilos 67 kilos about 10 and a half stone Hope that helps.

1.36 Should be leaving for WI but feeling nauseous. Plus Una knows what I weigh. Una cannot keep her lip buttoned. All those faces turned towards me as I walk in, all knowing the shameful truth – and it’s only a little bit of post-Christmas temporary plumpness.

6.19 Text from Una Missed you at WI are you OK? Have just worked out am 73 kilos, much prefer good old stones and pounds U. So Una is heavier than me – she kept that under her hat. Oh, nausea gone – will send Colin out for pizza.

66 (whatever that means – C has put new electronic scales back all wrong), text messages 17.

1.15 pm Lunching alone – Colin and Roderick have gone to Probus. Wives not allowed apparently. Phoned James last night, left several messages and he called me back when he was free (what a lamb). I told him sorry tale of new mobile phone, he said ‘oh ma, you are funny, I left that text on there to get you started.’ Apparently all that gobbledegook means ‘Hello mummy, welcome to the twentieth century, smiley face, great! See you later. James.’ I said ‘I’ll have to take your word for that James. How is er…?’ For the life of me I couldn’t remember the current girlfriend’s name. He just laughed again and said ‘must dash, bye.’ Anyway, will not be defeated by mobile phone, have got instruction book out and am reading it through Colin’s magnifying glass (hidden in his desk drawer, as he pretends he can see perfectly).

4.47 pm. Texting is easy! Looking through address book I saw almost everyone has a mobile. Why are we always the last for everything? Texted Una, Mavis, and Audrey to say Hi. Then texted them again to say It’s me, Pam, I sent the text that said Hi. Texted the Gawthorpes to say How’s life treating you in New Zealand. Texted Una and Audrey to say Have got new swimsuit for Albufeira. Gawthorpes texted back! And no gobbledegook, as plain as you like it said New Zealand not all it cracked up to be, no Radio 4 and nothing to compare with Waitrose, will be home in February. Mavis texted back to say Hi who are you? And then texted again Oh it was you Pam was it this is fun don’t you think? Must get more mobile phone numbers. Oh the joy of text!

? st ? lbs (see below), fantasy grandchildren 17, fantasy TV appearances 6

11.15 a.m. Oh dear, another long Saturday stretches ahead. When I think how manic the weekends used to be, rushing James to rugby and Bridget to tap and ballet (not that she ever got the hang of either), now it’s all Colin and me and TV suppers. If I suggest going out anywhere he says ‘oh it’s much quieter during the week’ and sits back to watch golf, or snooker, or whatever. Now he’s got my new electronic scales in bits all over the dining room table because, apparently, ‘they are fascinating.’ I know, will do some washing.

2.06 p.m. Found new mobile phone in linen hamper. Tracked down instructions in spare room, under paperback copy of celebrity biography – Bridget must’ve left it behind. As soon as I turned it on (phone not biography) it leapt into life and told me I had ‘one message.’ Pressed a few buttons and got this:

Yo ma wlcm to C21 :-) g8t! cul8r. J.

Will tell James to take it back and get refund – it’s obviously broken.

10st 5, 10st 4, 10st 5, 10st 7, 10st 3, new scales different each time you stand on them.

10.30 a.m Terrible night. Woken in middle of night by strange buzzing sound in bedroom. Thought it was C. snoring and kicked him but bed was empty – he was in spare room again. Ended up hunting manically through room tossing underwear out of drawers until eventually found source of noise underneath bath salts in decorative box (present from the Enderbys, sure I saw it in tombola at WI Summer Fayre). It was the mobile phone James gave me for Christmas, despite my making it perfectly clear that what I really wanted was a voucher for Harvey Nicks (even James hopeless at choosing presents like all men). Thrust it into the linen hamper and eventually managed to get back to sleep. Must get some coffee and try to wake up.

18.27 Have just cancelled dinner date with Colin – Thursday is our regular night out, but I feel absolutely drained following sleepless night and harrowing phonecall with Audrey. C. said ‘oh good, now I can watch my video of England winning the Ashes.’ Have retreated to dining room to mull over Audrey’s remarks. Apparently both she and Una are worried because, and I quote, ‘alcohol is freely available in Albufeira.’ I said personally I only ever had a single small sherry but if she and Una had trouble with their self control then I really couldn’t help them with it. Audrey said she thought the best thing was if we all agreed to be teetotal, so naturally I agreed – wouldn’t want the poor things to struggle.

10st 2, time wasted phoning Bridget 37 minutes, fantasy grandchildren 3 (triplets).

07.30 a.m. Woke up feeling full of beans, wonderful night’s sleep. No sign of Colin. Found him asleep in the spare bed, complaining of bad dreams brought on by new multi-coloured underpants. Said he didn’t want to disturb me so crept down to spare room, then promptly fell back asleep.

10.30 a.m. Astonishing, supermarkets all empty first thing in the morning. Must get up early more often.

11.00 a.m. Colin didn’t want coffee as breakfasted so late. Lunch organised. Dinner ditto. What on earth shall I do next? I know, will phone Bridget in line with New Year’s Resolution.

11.17 a.m. Bridget apparently never at desk – tried three times. Each time phone answered by charming girl Perpetua. Parents live in Surrey, father retired but still dabbles when not playing golf, P. has flat in Pimlico with boyfriend who is IFA (wonder what that is) but they are moving upmarket. Very interested in my thoughts on curtains, and clearly thinks the world of Bridget, wanted to know all about her A levels and how she got on at uni.

16.50 Still no sign of Bridget at her desk, they are working her too hard, suggested to Perpetua perhaps she could share the load – I think she took it to heart.

10 st 3, new electronic scales most satisfactory.

09.30 Will take footspa to charity shop this afternoon, always nice to give a little something to others. New diet book recommends glass of water before each meal and using kiddie size plate for meals (damn, could have got one in Sales). Decide to stock freezer with low cal meals.

11.00 a.m. Stop for coffee with Colin, who has been mysteriously busy in shed all morning. He says coloured underpants make him feel radioactive and could I bleach them. Also complains about lack of biscuits, I explain about diet and he promptly helps himself to last of Christmas cake that was saving for later – definitely mine as he had three pieces yesterday.

6.07 p.m. Back from weekly stint in charity shop, doing something for others always makes one feel better. Manageress rejected footspa on grounds they already had three in the stockroom, I said in that case they were clearly over priced and she said no, we can’t give them away. No customers, but Una came in for long chat about Albufeira – apparently she is worried that Audrey will ‘get out of hand.’ What can she mean?

Bruises from crowds at sales 15, money spent £247.39, money saved £56.22, arguments with husband about money 3.

08.30 a.m. Do not believe in undignified scramble at Sales. Have left sandwiches for Colin, caught early train and am watching scenery go by in serene fashion. Will still be plenty of bargains left, am thankful to be old enough and wise enough not to get caught up in Sales fever.

1.33 p.m. Speedy lunch in cafeteria, need protein (ham sandwich) and sugar to replenish energy (currant bun). Am like highly trained member of SAS, have got corner table, back to wall, can see everyone who enters cafeteria. Carrier bags under seat, nice and safe, will repack them in rucksack in a moment so can move through crowds like knife through butter.

4.30 p.m. Home, triumphant. Showed Colin his new underpants, half price, he said ‘what flag is that? Looks like one of those new countries – couldn’t you have got me some plain white?’ Gritted teeth and showed him my new swimsuit, snatched from under nose of feeble woman who was clearly too fat for it. He said ‘that will never fit you.’

8.30 p.m. Swimsuit clearly a factory second – it doesn’t stretch properly. Manicure set in faux leather case will be very useful though, good that I got a second one for Bridget. Too tired to cook, Colin of course most put out at having sandwiches twice in one day. Am now luxuriating in new housecoat (only one button missing) with feet in new footspa. Most bizarre sensation.

Scales in bin. Will start again when Christmas cake finished.

3.17 a.m. Woke up suddenly when C. stopped snoring – but still breathing. In the silence I can hear Bridget’s biological clock ticking. Will have to rely on James for grandchildren.

3.18 a.m. What if he’s gay? All these girlfriends just a cover for his true nature. Is that what Una meant when she said ‘how lovely it is to see how fond James is of his mother’? Thank God am not enduring non-stop Una in Albufeira.

11.30 a.m. Spent morning being devoted, made shortbread to have with morning coffee. C. said ‘what no gingernuts?’ Then demanded packed lunch as is going out with new friend Roderick from golf club. Meeting in Kingsford Woods for male bonding round camp fire, latest thing apparently. Staying out all night may be involved, also nudity.

11.31 a.m. All night? Nudity?

11.32 a.m. Must buy new swimsuit for Albufeira.

New scales too high, produce vertigo, hot flushes 3 (why? Menopause at least 10 years ago), fantasy grandchildren 0 (too noisy)

11.30 a.m. Everything is weaker these days. Even Alka-Seltzer not as strong as it used to be. Will just pop back to bed.

2.30 p.m. It’s all come back to me in ghastly clarity. Bridget came late and dressed for funeral as usual, in black (but skirt far too short for funeral. Why doesn’t she listen when I tell her to maximise her assets and hide her flaws, legs like tree trunks, not from my side of the family). And I told her about dreadful Mark Darcy and his divorce and what did she do but pin him down over a vol-au-vent when there was a perfectly good young doctor all alone on the other side of the room. Aargh, phone.

2.35 p.m. Mavis on phone. Apparently women can have hot flushes well into their seventies. Her mother had one at 93.

2.37 p.m. Phoned Una with hot flush query. She pretended to be too young for menopause. Hah! Then she said ‘never mind all that Pam, I’ve just returned from the travel agents and it’s booked! We’re going to Albufeira in February!’ Expressed astonishment that she could drag Geoffrey away from his easy chair. She did that annoying little laugh of hers (tinkle tinkle) and said ‘oh Pam, you’re so funny, this is just for us girls.’ Hung up and retrieved vague memory of promising to have holiday with Audrey Coles and Una. Will never touch sherry again. Phoned back and explained couldn’t go, as am devoted wife and potential grandmother.

RESOLUTIONS
I WILL NOT
buy magazines with photos of skinny models
pretend to be natural blonde
keep reminding Colin about state of garage
have pointless fantasies about younger men
criticise Una’s clothes
believe anything ever said by charming young politician

I WILL
lose 10lbs
get roots done every 6 weeks
use pasta maker (or at least get out of box)
start spending savings as can’t take it with you
spend more time with Bridget
devote self to family
buy only organic food
find out what organic means
learn to get computer going myself instead of making Colin pick up emails for me

1 January

10st 4½ (wasting away due to maternal worry), fantasy grandchildren admired by Hugh Grant 3 (but resolutions never start before January 2nd), fantasy victory on Countdown 1.
6.30 p.m. We are going to be late, even though I got Colin into his freshly pressed casual slacks and new Argyll sweater over an hour ago. Instead of quietly reading the newspaper he (and I quote) ‘just thought he’d check the spark plug on the lawnmower.’ Result – grease not only on the slacks but on sweater too. Got him into his second best and put the nice clothes in a strong solution of biological powder to soak.

8.30 p.m. Where is Bridget? She promised me faithfully she would be here on time. I promised Una she would be here. If she doesn’t come it’ll look as if she doesn’t love her mother. Oh to hell with it, will just have another small sherry and… oh, they’re playing Elvis. Must dance.

1.30 a.m. Ooh, feel 16 again (but no acne). Danced all night, I think.